


Many a Glade They Filled With Joy

by amyfortuna



Series: Season of Kink 2017 [7]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cousin Incest, Exposure, Healing and Recovery, Intercrural Sex, LaCE What LaCE?, Mind Reading, Multi, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Threesome, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-19 08:14:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11893659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyfortuna/pseuds/amyfortuna
Summary: Lúthien saves Finrod's life, and Beren finds himself caught up in a dream once more.





	Many a Glade They Filled With Joy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lingwiloke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lingwiloke/gifts).



> The title is from the Lay of Leithian:
> 
> _Songs have recalled the Elves have sung_   
>  _in old forgotten elven tongue-_   
>  _how Lúthien and Beren strayed_   
>  _by the banks of Sirion. Many a glade_   
>  _they filled with joy, and there their feet_   
>  _passed by lightly, and days were sweet._
> 
> Also fulfils my Season of Kink square for Exhibitionism/Exposure.

Finrod was fading, his vision going dark. Beside him Beren mourned, tears falling. Around them the walls of the ancient castle groaned, and the light of Lúthien was shining far, far above them in triumph. 

Beren did not perceive her, his mortal senses dulled by grief, until a light hand landed on his shoulder, and her scent caressed him. "Let me see him," she whispered, and carefully Beren surrendered Finrod's body to her, warm still, but with breath so faint it was almost nonexistent. 

After a moment, she turned toward Beren again, and a smile lit up her face. "My beloved Beren," she said. "Finrod yet lives." 

She seemed to be a light unto herself, shining down on them both, warm and hopeful. With one word of command the chains still clasping Beren's wrists fell off, and he hurried forward into her arms. Their hug, filled with relief, was awkward with Finrod lying still and silent between them, and yet Beren wanted it to never end. He brushed a hand over her hair, finding it short, and drew back quizzically, but she shook her head. 

"Later I will tell the full tale," she said. 'For now, let us leave this den of evil." She pressed a kiss to his cheek, and then he had the strength to stand, to aid her in carrying Finrod out of the tower onto the green sward of Tol Sirion, as far away from the tower as they could go. Finrod moaned now and again but said nothing. 

Once they lowered Finrod to the cool grass under the trees and Lúthien bent down to look at him, Beren dropped down too, exhausted beyond the telling of it, and was content to merely watch Lúthien's face. She was quiet and sober as she examined her cousin, pushing aside half-ruined garments to inspect the wolf-wounds beneath.

At length Lúthien looked up, meeting Beren's eyes. "His wounds are very grave," she said soberly, "but not beyond my skill, I think. Sleep will do much to aid you both, for you too are wounded in spirit if not in body." She pulled away the cloak she was wearing, night-dark as her hair, and bid Beren lay down beside Finrod. "I will keep watch over you both, you need fear nothing."

Beren yawned as she lay the cloak down over both of them, and within a moment was in the deepest, most restful slumber he could ever remember having. 

When he awoke again, it was three days later. The once-proud tower of Minas Tirith lay in a heap of rubble, and beside him Finrod still lay in the peace of sleep, but with colour in his face and his wounds healed to mere scars. Lúthien smiled as she saw Beren sit up, and immediately knelt beside him, kissing his face tenderly. Nearby there was a fire, and a small cache of nuts and fruits. Beren was conscious of a great hunger, and said little while Lúthien fed him plenty of each.

By the time his hunger was nearly satisfied, Finrod was stirring restlessly. Lúthien gave Beren a soft smile and went to him, putting her arms around him. "Wake, cousin," she said. "For your Enemy has fled and you have been healed." 

Beren came over to Finrod's side, and took his hand, still cold, in both of his own warm ones. "Wake, Lord," he added. "You have fulfilled your Oath and the danger is over." 

After a few moments, Finrod smiled, and opened his eyes, warmth returning to his body, and the light in his eyes was like the Sun coming out from behind a cloud to Beren. Lúthien laughed brightly, and kissed Finrod on the mouth. He rose up into her touch, their mouths clinging together for just a bit longer than a cousinly kiss. Heat spread through Beren's loins at the sight of them entwined together, even if just briefly. Fantasies that he'd only entertained before in the darkest night suddenly leaped to the fore of his mind, and he chastised himself for thinking such prurient thoughts of a chaste embrace between cousins. 

He was an open book to them, and when they turned knowing, laughing glances upon him, he knew it, and laughed himself, trying to dismiss the thoughts that kept returning to his mind. He wanted so much -- to see her kiss him again, to be between them as they kissed his throat and murmured soft words of praise against his body, to take Lúthien even as Finrod took him, to watch as Finrod and Lúthien took their fill of each other, to kiss Lúthien's sweet mouth and taste Finrod on her. He trembled, closing his eyes before their gaze, but that only seemed to make it worse. 

"This is no idle dream or fancy," Lúthien whispered, low enough that Beren could hardly hear her. "You truly desire this, desire us." 

Feeling as if he had run entirely out of options, was utterly exposed, Beren bowed his head, and whispered one word back, "...Yes." And Lúthien smiled.

The forests of Neldoreth had once served as a love-nest for their earliest play, in what seemed a spring so long ago now, so it was no strange thing for Lúthien to slowly stand and let her gown fall from her. The Sun was bright overhead and it illuminated the lines and curves of her body, lithe and fair. She gave him a delighted, eager glance, and he could feel himself hardening fit to burst just from the way she looked. 

Finrod sat up and took Beren's hands in his own. "Do not concern yourself about custom or expectation," he said. "Lúthien is yours entirely, and you both know it, but pleasure may be shared in many forms." A quick flash went through Beren's mind of a elven maiden, her hair golden bright, her face sad. "Amarië is my betrothed, far away though she is," Finrod continued, "but no vows bind us to one another alone forever, just as no vows yet bind you so to Lúthien." Finrod then bent forward and kissed Beren, warmth and passion filling him up. 

It seemed as though Beren had once again fallen into a dream, for time expanded and contracted in ways he found difficult to recall later, sudden pinpoints of memory standing out sharp and clear, all else in a wondrous muddle, a haze of sensation and beauty. It seemed no time at all before Finrod stood unclad, the torn garments that had been his only clothes in a careless heap on the ground, Beren himself bereft of clothing likewise. All three of them were laughing as they fed Finrod sweet fruits and licked the juices from his lips. 

...And then Lúthien, her knowing eyes on Beren, pressing kisses to Finrod's chest as Finrod lay back on the grass and moaned decadently. Something in her eyes bid Beren join her, and so he did, taking Finrod's nipple into his mouth, and then, as Lúthien raised herself to kiss Finrod again, kissing her breasts too. 

Time passed. He found himself taking Finrod into his mouth, Lúthien urging him on, and then pressing between Lúthien's legs to give her the same treatment, the salty-sweet taste of them both filling his senses entirely. 

Then Beren lay between them, facing Lúthien and buried within her to the hilt, Finrod's cock between his thighs, and all of them gasping together as they moved, crying out soft exclamations of delight. Beren gave himself up to sensation, feeling Lúthien's kisses at his throat, her hair against his skin, the shortness of it tickling him, while behind him Finrod whispered sweet nonsense into his ear and held him close. 

It was like the most pleasant dream after nightmares beyond count, comfort and healing after untold horror, and Beren could not help but be swept away on the rush of feeling. For they were both telling him of love, Finrod's sweet words in his ear, eternity in Lúthien's bright eyes.

Much later, Beren came back to himself, spent and pleasantly exhausted, to find Lúthien's eyes meeting his, and Finrod's arms around him. He knew that strategies would have to be worked out, plans made, and part of his brain wanted to start work right away. 

But the greater part of him was still caught up in relieved wonder and delight. He said nothing, but let himself be held between them for just a little longer.


End file.
